


History in Pieces

by hulagal621



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alexander Hamilton Being an Asshole, Angry Sex, Bisexual Alexander Hamilton, Dom Thomas Jefferson, Drunk Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hamilton Being Hamilton, Hurt Alexander Hamilton, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Jamilton - Freeform, Jealous Thomas, M/M, Past Alexander Hamilton/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler, Sally Hemings - Freeform, Sexual Slavery, Sub Alexander Hamilton, Thomas Jefferson Being an Asshole, Underage Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 17:42:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11994789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hulagal621/pseuds/hulagal621
Summary: Thomas Jefferson was a man of honor. Well, that's what people believed. His life was simple; becoming Secretary of State after returning from France and residing in Monticello. Except, how he acted at work and at home varied drastically. No one knew what happened behind the double doors of his mansion. Not until Alexander Hamilton found a way into his heart, finding out secrets that only a young woman named Sally knew.





	History in Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Jamilton fic. The relations between Thomas Jefferson and Sally Hemings will not be explicitly described. Please leave comments and kudos. I really hope you enjoy!

My hand started to ache as I scribbled more notes on my paperwork with a quill. I just returned from France and I was supposed to be relaxing, but work continued to pile up. There was at least a few reams of paperwork to catch up on, which were due soon. Resting wasn't an option. I've been on the verge of falling asleep at my desk for the past few hours, but I was nowhere near a stopping point. The candlelight illuminated the space of my office, while it was near to burning out.

I was sure the knock I heard was my head hitting against my desk as I started to doze off, until I noticed it coming from my door. My arm propped my head up as I spoke with a raspy voice, "Come in." There wasn't much to worry about, since I owned every person who entered my household this late in the evening.

The door opened to reveal Sally, "Mr. Jefferson." Her voice was small, as if she was trying to hide herself. "You have a letter from Mr. Washington." Sally lifted the letter to provide a better view. It was noticeable that she was nervous. Her hand was trembling as she held the letter.

"Ah, Ms. Hemings, would you be a doll and open it for me?"

Sally nodded, "Yes, sir," before opening the letter. I noticed her eyes scanning it quickly before explaining, "It states that Mr. Washington wants you to run the State department of his newly formed cabinet. It seems the Senate has already approved of his decision."

"Wonderful." I set my quill down, and quickly pinched the flame of the candle to put it out. The candlelight left the room, leaving the moonlight through the windowpanes. "Is that all, darling?"

Her eyes continued to scan the letter, "And Mr. Hamilton is coming to visit you tomorrow, it's about our debt plan, sir. Washington plans for him to become our Secretary of Treasury, you will be working with him. I believe his intentions are good, sir. I'll be sure to have breakfast ready in the morning, since it seems his visitation will be quite early, and you are expected to head up to New York the following day." Sally immediately turned towards the door, making her way out.

"Sally," I stood up, which was her signal to return. "Why don't you rest? It seems you have been cleaning all day." It wasn't a suggestion. What we had wasn't anything new. The way she led herself to my bed that separated my office and parlor. The way she pulled the ribbon that held her dress on her body. How she lifted herself onto my bed. It was familiar to the both of us.

It was the same routine quite often. It wasn't right. Of course it wasn't. We both knew it, but I would never admit it. I needed it, even if it was being selfish. Sally would still receive better treatment than others, but it wouldn't make our situation any better. Nothing could change the truth. She never enjoyed it, but would do her best to never speak of such things. It came to the point where I questioned whether I enjoyed it, or used her for relief.

We kept it between us. It would destroy my earnings. Our lives would be ruined. Except, once I was with her, I would forget. Forget about the matter of consequence. It prevented me from quitting. Sleep was finally in my grasp, and my eyes closed. Sally's frail body was in my arms, and the last thing I remember was her soft breaths. It reminded me of peace, but nothing was at ease.

~~~

My back was aching and I was shivering. My eyes just started to open, and the sunlight through the windows made it harder to adjust. It seems I have fallen sleep. Sally wasn't present, which left an empty space. Letting out a groan , I shifted on my back. It was possible she returned to her daily tasks. Possibly tidying up the house for our guest. It was quite unfair to wake up alone. Days have seemed so dull since Martha's passing. My actions have been different and it has been unbearably lonesome without her presence.

I tried to drift back to sleep, but ended up laying in my bed—for what felt like hours—before deciding to start the day. Secretary Hamilton was to make an appearance today, and I wouldn't dare make an unsatisfactory first impression. For Washington's sake, of course. My magenta suit seemed most appealing for the day, and it didn't me too long to get ready. Hamilton was to arrive any minute, and it would be unpleasant to leave him waiting.

Leaving the parlor, I barely made it down the hallway before I heard a loud knock coming from my front door. It was unsettling to know that the man I haven't met was already causing anxiety to stir. I opened the door and was greeted by a man in a dark shade of green who was much shorter than me. His height was almost enough for me to snicker.

His eyes met mine and he held out his hand, "Hello, I'm Alexander Hamilton." Regardless of his height, it seemed he was intimidating. Not as if it bothered me. His appearance caught my eye: light-skinned, shoulder length hair, and stubble. Something about him made me feel different.

"Ah, hello, Alexander." I grabbed his hand for a firm handshake, "I'm Thomas Jefferson." He seemed mesmerized the way he looked at me. As if he was at loss of words, which I could say the same for myself. Alexander was quite intriguing. I gestured for him to come inside, which he accepted right away.

The room must've looked foreign to him, especially when he wouldn't stop glancing around. I called for Sally to make tea for our guest. "Follow me," I stated when I started walking towards the parlor. He seemed like a quiet person. "Washington sent you, correct?" I walked in, and took a seat in front of a coffee table, which Hamilton sat across from me.

Hamilton nodded quickly, "Yes, sir. He sent me to discuss our debt plan, which I'm assuming you already knew. I believe we should raise the price of tariffs. It would help us gain more money and pay back what France gave us." He was really passionate about this topic I would suppose, since he started the discussion rather quick.

"Wouldn't that defeat the whole purpose of having a revolution in the first place? To pay less taxes?"

"Yes, but there is no other way for us to climb out of our national debt. We need to tax the South, regardless if New York is in debt. We are a country. We need to work together to get out of this debt." Scratch what I said about him being quiet, he most definitely is not. Not even five minutes in, and I was already becoming irritated.

Thankfully, Sally walked in holding a tray of tea. Maybe it would calm him down, especially since he seemed tense. He could always act this way, but that's not an excuse. She poured tea into our cups before leaving. "Why should we tax the south? We provide most of the trade goods, such as crops. The south isn't in debt."

I took a sip of my tea, and no matter how many he took, he didn't seem to relax whatsoever. "Like I previously stated, sir. We are one country. Raising taxes, with a strong central government, will be beneficial towards our country, sir." It seemed he was becoming angry too. Stubborn as all hell. I'm positive he would not be changing his mind any time soon.

I wasn't handling anymore of him. I refuse to believe Washington would willingly let this man to keep track of our financial system. "Wouldn't raising the price of tariffs make soldiers who fought in the war bankrupt," I needed anything to get through to him, leaving me smirking at him, "Which would mean you. Or, I'm sorry, every soldier besides yourself?"

He immediately stood up, which I had to prevent him from leaving. Washington would be livid if he found out. "Without the north, the south would be nothing. Those seeds you plant in the ground. Where are they manufactured? The north. Where are your goods traded? The north. Most importantly, where is the country the strongest? The north!" He was glaring at me, practically spitting while he yelled. A true man does not enter one man's home to spit in his face and disregard his beliefs.

He's barely been here for a while, and he was already infuriated, but so was I. "Yes, but where is our country poorly financed? The north. The South shouldn't have to pay—"

"A country helps itself, regardless of the poorer sides. Maybe it's unfair, but it's what's right. Now if you excuse me, I'll make my own way out," He took a deep breath," Thank you, Mr. Jefferson, for this lovely conversation." I could sense his sarcasm. Either way, I had to stop him from leaving. Washington would be agitated.

"Wait, Hamilton." I walked over to him. For some reason I felt pity for him. By the looks of it, he has many things built up inside, which he holds to himself. Eventually, you'll have to let it out. The longer you isolate yourself, the harder it is to stop. "I didn't want to start an argument. It was supposed to be a discussion."

Vigorously shaking his head once, he looked directly into my eyes. "And to think I actually looked up to you." That was enough for me to be in shock. One would think this man hated me all his life the way he argued, but apparently I was wrong.

"Hamilton—"

"No. I was exhilarated to meet you for the first time. Why do you think I was so anxious to be in here? I looked up to you, but it seemed that you spent the entire revolution in France. You weren't here fighting for your own country." Hamilton sat back down. I sat down in the chair next to him. "And it seems you don't care for your country."

Honestly, I was speechless. It was hard to recuperate from that, especially knowing I would have to work with this guy for a while. "I'm sorry, Alexander." When his name was said, he glanced up at me, as if he enjoyed when it came from me. His eyes quickly found their way back to the floor. "I'm going to work with you for a while, I can't become your enemy before Washington becomes president. I do care for this country."

It was silent when he wasn't speaking. His voice overpowered anyone. It did seem as if he kept something important to himself. Maybe it was to prevent an argument. "I'll see if Washington can schedule more meetings. Hopefully, we could keep a simple debate without arguing."

Eventually, something good would have to come out of this meeting. At this point, his visitation could not have possibly gotten worse. It wouldn't hurt me to have some entertainment. Which led me to raising an eyebrow and smirking, "You have the sudden urge to see me, don't you?"

I've never saw more mischief in someone's eyes until Hamilton looked up at me. Innocence staring into my eyes, "Is that a problem, sir?" I noticed how his lips were threatening to curl into a smirk. The man beating me in my own game, for God's sake. The problem was, I was going to let him.

"Now, Hamilton." I leaned forward, my eyes not leaving his. Being with him felt different. It wasn't anything in comparison to Sally's presence. Everything felt stronger with him. As if I needed his presence, rather than wanted. "Would you care to stay the night? I don't think Mr. Washington would mind."

He fell dead silent, again. It seemed almost impossible that anyone had the power to shut him up. Maybe it wasn't the right moment to have asked, but it wouldn't have mattered. Not as if it would be terrible to fool around one night, things would return to normal as soon as work started. Instead of heading up to New York alone, he could accompany me.

"I don't think Washington would mind." Alexander's voice filled with self doubt. It was alright if he felt uncomfortable with this situation. He was allowed to leave, but I would never let an opportunity pass. It would be pleasant to have him stay.

"Please, Alexander, why don't you rest? It seems you need to release built up stress." Standing up, I walked behind his chair and placed my hand on his shoulders. "Maybe you will need some assistance?" Hamilton's head fell back as he gazed up at me, before I slowly leaned down.

Life was immensely inexplicable. One moment you're despising a man you barely met. The next, you're sleeping with your colleague. Everything about it was wrong, but it felt right. If anything, this was more passionate than anything I've had since Martha. Maybe I was using him, too. The same way I use Sally, but with more infatuation. With more want. A newly found crave for him based off of relieving stress. I knew I wanted him.


End file.
